


The Baneling

by orphan_account



Series: Merthur Drabbles [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood, Gaius ships it, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Monster of the Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur brings Merlin with him on yet another monster-killing expedition, only to find that his manservant is terrified of this particular one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baneling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narlth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narlth/gifts).



    Arthur sighed, shifting beneath his blanket. Sticks were poking into his back no matter which way he turned, it was pouring rain, and Gwaine’s snoring was starting to sound like a bear. The night was thoroughly cold, thoroughly damp, and thoroughly unpleasant no matter how he sliced it.

 

“Remind me why we’re here?” muttered Percival, who was on watch.

 

“Because,” said Arthur, wrinkling his nose, “there’s a great big monster terrorizing the outlying villages, and we’re supposed to kill it.” Percival nodded in consideration, pulling his cloak over his head against the rain.

 

“Fair enough,” he said, effectively ending the conversation. Arthur rolled over, only to find Merlin’s face mere inches from his own. The deep blue eyes were wide and terrified.

 

“Why are we here?” he whispered, voice shaking.

 

“Because, Merlin,” Arthur whispered back, “If we don’t, people are going to die.”

 

“I know that,” Merlin hissed, “I mean, why do I have to be here?”

 

“Because,” repeated Arthur, “you know the outlying villages best. And you’re my manservant.”

 

“But I don’t want to be here,” he said pathetically, hugging his shoulders. “I’m scared.”

 

“Don’t be such a girl’s petticoat,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes. “I’ve killed hundreds of monsters before.”

 

“This one’s different,” protested Merlin. An unearthly howl echoed through the night, followed by a clap of thunder. The manservant visibly blanched, clutching his blanket tightly.

 

“I’ve heard that before,” he whimpered, staring urgently at Arthur. “It’s called the Baneling. It came to Ealdor once. Killed half our livestock, twenty people, and vanished into the night. You can’t kill this, Arthur. Nobody can.”

 

Arthur sneaked a glance at Percival, who was staring into the forest. He reached up a hand and stroked Merlin’s hair soothingly.

 

“I’ll kill this Baneling,” he said, with more confidence when he felt. “It’ll never hurt anyone again.”

 

Merlin squirmed, his face still drawn, but he rolled over and fell into an uneasy sleep. Arthur lay next to him, listening to the rolls of thunder.

 

-M-

 

    The next day, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights stalked through the forest, following deep tracks gouged into the mud. Arthur internally winced at the three claw marks on each footprint. This “Baneling” clearly had a set of fearsome talons. No wonder the people were terrified.

 

    Suddenly, a growl echoed through the forest, seemingly coming from all sides. Everybody drew their swords, forming a defensive circle. Merlin hid behind Arthur, eyes wide with terror.

 

“Oh no,” he gasped. “Oh no no no!” Arthur raised his shield protectively, flipping his sword, but his eyes widened in terror as well.

 

    The Baneling was unlike any monster he had ever seen. Hideously scaled and quadrupedal, it had three long, razor-sharp claws on each paw. Its monstrous jaws and talons were crusted brown with dried blood and spittle, scraps of flesh hanging between its pointed teeth. Spying Arthur and the knights, its golden eyes narrowed. Lowering its head, it charged, far faster than Arthur anticipated. He brought his shield up, but the Baneling was coming too fast. His maille would be cut like a knife through butter if he wasn’t quick.

 

    But then Arthur felt himself being pushed to the side, and saw a flash of blue and red beside him.

 

“NO!” He cried, reaching out to Merlin, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, a single foot lifted, gashing through Merlin’s tunic and into his stomach. He fell back, eyes wide with pain and desperation, hitting the ground bonelessly. Blinded with rage, Arthur jumped to his feet, slashing heedlessly, but the Baneling was once again too fast. His sword barely made a cut in its skin, and with a screech, it bounded away into the forest.

 

Arthur ran over to where Merlin lay in the mud and leaves, blood mingling with the brown water. The young man’s face was even whiter than normal, clenched in agony, hands clutching his stomach. Arthur pulled them away, doing his best to ignore the wounded cry Merlin let out. Without a second thought, he reached back and wrapped his cloak into strips, wrapping them around the manservant’s torso. Merlin’s agonizing screams sounded like they tore at his throat, and Arthur felt bile rise in his throat as the crimson cloak was stained burgundy with blood.

 

“Get him on my horse,” he commanded, voice raw. “I’ll take him to Gaius. Follow the tracks, protect wherever it’s going!” The nights stood frozen in shock at their leader crouched in the mud.

 

“NOW!” he cried, scrabbling towards his steed. Percival and Gwaine lifted Merlin, their hands red with his blood. He looked so small and frail in their arms, his lanky frame folded in on itself. Arthur leapt onto his horse behind Merlin, wrapping his arm around his torso.

 

“Hold on, Merlin,” he whispered, digging his heels into his horse’s flanks. With a whinny, horse and riders sped away. Merlin’s head lolled forward, nearly falling off the horse, but Arthur clutched him tightly to his chest. Ignoring his own pains from where he had fallen, Arthur urged his steed onward, leaning close to his wounded manservant.

 

They rode through the night, carefully navigating by the moonlight and a dim torch Arthur held aloft. When they could go no further, Arthur stopped, carefully pulling Merlin down from the horse. Merlin groaned slightly, but he was completely unconscious. Beads of sweat stood out on his brow, and he was hot to the touch. Arthur cursed. He was no physician, but he knew the signs of infection when he saw them. Starting a fire, he boiled some water, inserting a stick between Merlin’s teeth. This roused him slightly, opening eyes glazed with fever.

 

“Sorry,” said Arthur, kneeling on Merlin’s legs as he unwrapped the bandages. The gashes had yet to scab, and were oozing a clear liquid. They were inflamed around the edges, redness taunting Arthur in the firelight. With a wince, he dipped a cloth in the boiled water and began to clean the wounds. Merlin writhed and struggled underneath him, agonizing cries emerging from behind the stick. It took all of Arthur’s strength to hold him down.

 

“Hold still,” he begged, tears coming to his eyes. If Merlin heard, he gave no sign. Arthur continued to clean Merlin’s injuries, tears falling down his face freely. Only when the wounds had been thoroughly cleaned and rebandaged did they subside. Exhausted, he fell to Merlin’s side, a parody of how they had slept only the night before.

 

“I shouldn’t have let you do that,” he whispered into the night sky. “It’s my job to be the brave one, not yours. You were terrified, and I should’ve protected you. Instead, you saved me.” He turned to look at Merlin, who was breathing shallowly beside him, eyes wrinkled shut in pain. “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “You don’t deserve all the things that happen to you. All the orders I give you, pushing you around - it’s not right. You’re probably one of the most important people in the world to me. I just don’t want people to - never mind.” He rolled onto his back, falling into an exhausted sleep.

 

-M-

 

Arthur woke at first light a scant hour later, immediately turning to Merlin. To his relief, his fever had subsided slightly, but his breath still rattled worryingly, and the bandages were stained red once more. Cursing, he hauled Merlin onto his horse, plunging through the forest once more. It wasn’t long before the towers of Camelot loomed over the treetops. Arthur’s heart lifted with hope. There may be time yet to save Merlin.

 

He ran down the streets of Camelot with Merlin in his arms, not caring how his entire body shook with exhaustion. Arthur burst into Gaius’s chambers, dropping to the floor.

 

“A Baneling…” he panted. “Wounds...infected...I did my best.” Gaius lifted his ward onto the low bed, pulling back the bandages.

 

“You’ve done well, Arthur,” he said, bustling about his apothecary. “Drink this, it’ll help you rest.” He offered a vile-smelling tincture. Arthur waved it aside.

 

“No,” he said, with surprising strength. “I need to make sure he recovers.” Gaius raised an eyebrow, but acquiesced, drawing two chairs to Merlin’s side. Arthur dragged himself onto one, clasping Merlin’s hand in his own.

 

“Don’t leave me, you clotpole,” he whispered, uncaring of what Gaius saw. “You still need to polish my armour.” However, Merlin’s standard witty reply did not come. Gaius sat beside him, pressing a poultice over Merlin’s wounds.

 

“He’ll recover,” said Gaius, his prognosis complete. “He’ll need at least two weeks of bed rest, though. No armour polishing or mucking out the stables.” But Arthur had fallen asleep where he sat, hand still holding Merlin’s.

 

It was only a few hours later when Leon burst into Gaius’s room, bloodied and dirty.

 

“Sire,” he said urgently. “I was told you were here. We were too late to defend the village from the Baneling. It’s killed again.” Unbidden, Arthur’s eyes flickered down to Merlin, who was still fast asleep. However, his complexion was starting to return, and his breath came easier.

 

“I’m going after it,” Arthur declared, standing up. However, he nearly collapsed as his legs gave out underneath him.

 

“You’re too weak, sire,” admonished Gaius. “You’ve overexerted yourself, you’re in no condition to-” He was stopped by a pointed glare from Arthur. “Merlin’s out of danger,” he said softly. “He’ll be fine.”

 

“Then that settles it,” said Arthur, buckling his sword onto his belt. “Leon, gather the remaining men. What was the beast’s last known path?”

 

“North, towards the border,” Leon replied. “But sire, I really don’t think-”

 

“Does my father know I’m back?” interrupted Arthur.

 

“No, but-”

 

“Then let’s not give him cause to think we’ve failed.” Arthur stepped out of Gaius’s room, with a last glance back at Merlin. He did his best not to fall as he clambered onto his horse, every muscle screaming with fatigue. “I promised I would kill the Baneling, and I always keep my word.” Leon and Gaius exchanged a look, and without another word, the knight hurried after Arthur.

 

-M-

 

    Arthur and his men rode hard for the North, only stopping when it was too dark to see more than a foot in front of them. The night was cold and starless, the moon refusing to emerge from behind the gathering clouds. Arthur tossed and turned, unable to think of anything other than Merlin. What he alright? Had he taken a turn for the worse? Was he-

 

    Arthur forced himself to stop that thought before he could complete it. He would bring a talon to Merlin, to prove that he’d killed the terror of his childhood, and everything could go back to being the way it was before. He was still awake when the sun rose, having barely been able to close his eyes. Drawing his sword, he strode off into the forest, the knights following him with spears. It wasn’t long before they came across the Baneling’s monstrous tracks, following them through the forest once more. The footprints led to a clearing where a small village was nestled. However, as the company watched, the Baneling burst through a granary, scattering people in its wake.

 

“Hey! Over here!” Cried Arthur, beating his sword on his shield. Once more, the Baneling’s yellow gaze fixed on him, and it lowered its head, ready to charge. But this time, Arthur was ready.

 

“Get back!” He yelled to his knights, who obligingly scattered away from the charging monster. As it brought its claws forward to swipe at him, Arthur raised his shield, plunging his sword into the Baneling’s vulnerable underbelly. With an unholy screech, it toppled over, barely missing Arthur as it convulsed in its death throes. Panting, Arthur rose to his feet, hacking away a claw and wrapping it in his cloak.

 

“We’re finished here,” he said grimly, mounting his horse. The knights watched on in awe as Arthur galloped away into the forest.

 

-M-

 

    Arthur knelt by Merlin’s bedside, unwrapping the talon he had obtained from the Baneling. To his relief, Merlin’s eyes no longer held their glassy stare, and flicked across his face with alertness.

 

“I killed the Baneling,”Arthur said, holding up the talon. “You have nothing more to fear from it.”

 

Merlin shuddered at the sight of the curved claw, turning his head away.

 

“I don’t want it,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Gaius, who was listening shrewdly, lifted his head.

 

“Claw of a Baneling? I’ll take that off your hands, sire,” he said, gratefully removing it from Arthur’s grasp. He wandered off to the back shelves, pointedly clearing his throat as he did so.

 

“I never thought I’d hear you apologize,” Merlin said softly, smiling wanly up at Arthur.

 

“You heard all of that?” Arthur said incredulously. “I thought you were delirious with fever! I would’ve never said any of that if I’d known you were awake!”

 

“Was it true?” Asked Merlin, eyes looking up at Arthur honestly. “What you said, about me being important to you?”

 

“Well, yes,” blustered Arthur, taken aback. “You’re my servant, I need you to polish my armour and such.”

 

“We both know that’s not what you meant,” chided Merlin, raising an eyebrow in an uncanny imitation of Gaius. Arthur sighed in exasperation. Impulsively, he leaned down to kiss Merlin full on the lips, closing his eyes. He pulled back, searching Merlin’s face for a reaction, praying it was a good one.

 

“I’m not supposed to be exerting myself,” Merlin said cheekily, chuckling, then curling in on himself as a bolt of pain shot through him. Arthur stroked his hair errantly.

 

“I meant every bit of it,” he said absent-mindedly. “I just hope you feel the same way.”

 

“Apparently I couldn’t have been more obvious,” replied Merlin. “I can’t believe you never noticed.”

  
“You’re such a bloody girl, Merlin,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes. “All the same, it’s good to see you’re recovering. At this rate, you’ll be mucking out the stables again in no time!” So saying, he clapped Merlin on the shoulder, standing up. Arthur glanced over his shoulder as he exited, returning Merlin’s beaming grin. Who could have thought that something as monstrous as the Baneling could bring about a smile that wonderful?


End file.
